Chapter 2

Mary and I were abandoned in a hospital bathroom right after birth, placed in an old cardboard box.

A kind-hearted janitor found us and took us to the nearest orphanage.

We depended on each other to survive, and I did everything I could to take care of Mary.

Whatever good food or new clothes came our way, I gave them all to her.

When other kids bullied us, I always rushed to the front, getting beaten black and blue without making a sound.

Mary relied on me completely, always following behind me, sweetly calling me "sister."

Back then, I thought that even though we didn't have parents, we had each other and the director. That was enough.

My biggest wish was to grow up quickly and earn money.

To give the director a good life and buy Mary lots of pretty dresses.

Until we were fifteen, when we met our adoptive parents.

Lauren was frail and sickly, unable to have children, and wanted to adopt one.

They looked around the orphanage for a long time before their eyes finally landed on Mary and me.

The director was overjoyed and pulled us aside, holding our hands:

"You're going to have a new home. You must be obedient and well-behaved from now on!"

Mary and I were both nervous but full of anticipation.

This was the home with a mom and dad that we had longed for.

The adoptive parents took us out for a meal, bought us new clothes, and asked about our life at the orphanage.

But I could sense they liked Mary a bit more.

Mary was sweet-tongued and knew how to act cute, while I was reserved and could only clumsily say "thank you."

Not long after bringing us home, the adoptive parents each gave Mary and me a thick envelope.

"There's ten thousand dollars inside."

"You can spend it however you want, but you must tell us how you used it."

Ten thousand dollars was an astronomical sum to me.

It was an amount the director would have to work hard for a long time to save up.

I clutched that heavy envelope, my palms sweating.

On the way back to the orphanage after leaving their house, Mary excitedly planned what she would buy.

"I'm going to buy gifts for Mom and Dad, then save the rest and return it to them!"

"That way they'll know I don't want to live with them just for the money!"

I nodded, but my heart was in turmoil.

Because just the day before, the director had collapsed again.

I rushed to get him to the hospital, and the doctor told me with a grave expression:

"Your director's condition can't be delayed any longer."

"His heart is severely damaged. He must have surgery as soon as possible. The cost will be about a hundred thousand dollars."

My mind went completely blank.

The orphanage usually had to rely on charitable donations to get by. Where would we find that much money?

After the director woke up, he gripped my hand and said:

"Georgina, don't listen to the doctor. This is just my old ailment. I don't need surgery."

His smile was forced, his face deathly pale.

I looked at the ten thousand dollars in my hand, silently watching the director.

A desperate idea emerged.

I knew it was wrong.

This money wasn't mine, and I knew it was all a test.

But... the director's life couldn't wait.

I couldn't worry about all that anymore.

I would work hard in the future and pay the adoptive parents back.

"Georgina, have you decided how to use it?" Mary asked me.

"I... haven't decided yet," I said, trembling.

Back at the orphanage, I shut myself in my room.

That ten thousand dollars felt like fire burning my palm.

Early the next morning, while Mary was still asleep, I rushed to the hospital with the money.

The staff counted the money and issued a receipt.

Holding that thin piece of paper, my tense nerves finally relaxed.

I waited outside the director's hospital room, watching as he was wheeled into the operating room.

The red light reflected on my face, and I suddenly remembered—I needed to go back to the White family's house.

It was time to report the test results.

I dragged my heavy feet, rehearsing explanations in my mind countless times.

Thinking about how to apologize, how to promise I'd pay the money back.

As soon as I pushed open the front door, I saw my adoptive parents sitting on the sofa.

Staring at me with unkind expressions.

"You're back?" My adoptive father Andrew's voice carried a chill.

"Where's the money? How did you spend it? Let's hear it."

I stood still, my entire body left with only a hospital payment slip.

I had crumpled it into a ball, clutching it tightly in my sweaty palm.

"I spent it all," I said, lowering my head, not daring to look them in the eye.

"What did you spend it on?!" Andrew roared in disbelief.

My lips trembled as I struggled to form coherent words.

I didn't dare tell the truth. I was afraid they'd make me get the money back.

"I just spent it," I stammered, trying to explain.

Just then, Mary, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly spoke up.

"Mom, Dad, don't be angry," she said slowly.

"I think I know where Georgina's money went."